Everything and Nothing
by etherealloveliness
Summary: Rosalie has difficulty coming to terms with the fact that she's a monster: a gorgeous monster with everything to lose and nothing to gain. Canon one-shot, missing moment. For the "When We Look in the Mirror, What Do We See?" challenge.


**A/N: A big thanks goes to my beta, Jmarcinikglsd! Also, this is a really late submission for the "When We Look in the Mirror, What Do We See?" challenge held by nadia the demented one. It's not actually in the challenge, I suppose, but it was a good idea and I wanted to use it. Enjoy!**

The fire slipped away from me, leaving only ashes in its place. My throat was raw from all the screaming. It burned and itched. I had never desired a cool, refreshing cup of water more in my life, not even when Rochester had experienced its hottest day a few years ago. Back then, I had wanted to have my entire body doused in ice. Now, I only yearned for the ice cubes to cool the flames residing in my throat.

Because this time, it was a hell of a lot worse.

I was afraid to open my eyes. What would I see? Would I see the flames of Satan's kingdom, begging for me to come to them so they could consume me once again? I hadn't ever been particularly religious, yet after all that had happened, I was forced to believe that I had to be punished even more. Although wasn't being raped bad enough? Wasn't my broken body proof that I had been chastised by God Himself?

Apparently, it wasn't.

How could I open my eyes to see what had become of me? However, I was a strong girl. I should be able to handle it. Cautiously, I lifted up my heavy eyelids and gasped in utter shock.

Everything had the quality of a perfect crystal. I saw three other people, warily watching me as I surveyed the room in awe. I saw the poorly stitched seams in the blond man's dress pants, the thin layer of dust covering a portrait of three kings, the fluorescent bulb of a lamp next to me, even the individual bronze hairs on the boy's head.

And the smells! The place was laced with the fragrance of flowers—roses, cloves, magnolias—and a faint trace of fresh fruit—apples, peaches, and blueberries. It was beautiful, yet the scent of roses was trying to break something through my hazy memories. I pushed it away.

I could hear, too.

Birds chirped a simple melody outside and I found that I could distinguish each note. The whispering sound of a zephyr battering against the shingles on the roof startled me. Though it had to have been the absence of breathing and hammering hearts that stunned me the most.

"Rosalie," the woman began tentatively, drawing a hand out from behind her back and outstretching it to me. It was supposed to be a comforting gesture. "We have many things to tell you. Don't worry; everything will be alright in the end." She forced a smile to appear on her lips. "We're glad to have you here."

Was this woman intoxicated? I wasn't going to be part of their family! They had...they had subjected me to this torture! And—I couldn't think straight. I clutched my head in exasperation and pain. God, I was so very thirsty. "Do you have water or something?" I tried to swallow, only to find that my tongue was dry. I was parched. "Please!" I begged. "I'm asking you one thing! Be hospitable and get me something to quench my thirst." My seemingly insatiable thirst.

They exchanged glances. "Dear," the woman began, looked pained. "You don't need water. You need...blood."

Everything during the time when I was being agonized in the inferno came rushing back to me. _"You're a vampire." "I'm sorry. I'm extremely sorry." "We need blood." "Why did you bring her home, Carlisle? Answer me!" "But we can live off of animal blood."_ No. NO! I had a family; I couldn't leave them!

"Oh, please tell me it isn't true!" I cried. No tears welled up. What was worse: that I couldn't see my family ever again or that I was forced to live out the life of a monster? And, dear God, the burning in my throat never lessened.

"It is," the boy—Edward—growled. Annoyed. Was I really that much of a burden? I was never a nuisance before. Everyone adored me. "You're a vampire. You drink blood. In fact, that's what you want now. You'll _kill_ to get blood. You won't ever die. You're stuck like this." He indicated to himself.

Something in me snapped.

A fierce sound built up in my chest. Before I knew what I was doing, I roared fiercely with my pent-up grievances. All the rage and sadness came out as I sped around the room, tearing apart the couch and destroying the table I had been lying on. The metal groaned as I snapped it in half. I wailed in complete despair and swiped at a full-length mirror. It fell over and broke, millions of pieces of glass flying all over the room.

I sank to the floor, my face in my hands. I didn't even want to know what I, Rosalie Hale, looked like. Was I hideous? Probably. Vampires weren't gorgeous, despite the evidence standing in front of me.

Morosely, I picked up a large piece of glass. I became silent. Was that me?

If so, I was dazzling. My lips parted in wonder—lovely rosebud lips. A pale face that was _mine_ was being reflected. It was flawless. The pale oval shape was framed by honey-colored hair, cascading down my shoulders, curling in little ringlets at the bottom. My eyebrows were slightly more angular, resulting in a vain, cruel look. But, if I was being honest, the eyes scared me.

_My_ eyes stared back at me, wide with surprise, from beneath dark eyelashes. Instead of violet orbs, now they shined a fierce red. Embedded rubies rather than a light purple.

I was an angel. A dead angel, but an angel nevertheless. If I had thought myself attractive before, now men would be flocking to me, bending down at my every whim. Well, vampires, at least. I'd forgotten I couldn't associate with humans now. The word sounded foreign to my mouth, because I was, or had been, one.

The Cullens left me to my own devices eventually. I could still hear them moving about the house, though at least they were giving me privacy.

How could I come to terms with this? I was "the fairest of them all" and yet, I was a monster. I had always taken my charm for granted. I never thought anything more than, "I'm prettier than you, and that's what matters." At the time, it did. Now it didn't.

It turned out that my beauty really did come with a price. A horrible, bloody price.


End file.
